


I don't care

by Emilia3546



Series: Nesta's healing [2]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, Depression, F/M, POV Cassian (ACoTaR), POV Nesta Archeron, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:01:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28917261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emilia3546/pseuds/Emilia3546
Summary: This can be read on it's own, but it will make more sense if you read 'No Regrets' first.Nesta awakes up alone, and can't get her head around Cassian, or herself.Major TW - PTSD, depression, suicidal thoughts, panic attack
Relationships: Nesta Archeron/Cassian
Series: Nesta's healing [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2120889
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	I don't care

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this one took so long to update, this series as a whole might be slower to update, it's sometimes difficult for me to write for Nesta's healing, I just need to be in the right headspace, so sorry in advance if it takes a while.   
> Love you all.

Nesta woke up alone, Cassian's side of the bed was already cold. She forced herself to sit up, to look at the time. Noon, how was it noon already? She scrambled out of bed and stumbled into the bathchamber to wash up, with every movement, every step in her routine, she threw up her walls, her shields from the world. By the time she had donned her fighting leathers, her icy mask had slid into place.

The house was empty, but there was a note on the kitchen counter,

_Had to go to training, couldn't miss it today, be back at sunset._

She didn't allow her mask to fail, not for a second, not when anyone could glance through the windows. She supposed that after last night she should go to the pitch, should see him. But she couldn't make her feet move, couldn't let her mind go back to where it had been last night, she couldn't. She busied herself with making breakfast, allowing thoughts of Cassian, of what she had said to him last night, to fade. But it seemed that the moment she stopped doing something, her own voice came back,

_I'm done wasting time._

_I never meant to hurt you._

_I don't deserve you._

She didn't deserve him. She could never voice it so that he understood, but she didn't deserve him. How could she? How could she deserve someone so brave, so selfless, so kind, someone who stayed by her side, even when she didn't herself know that she needed him there, someone who refused to allow her to hurt herself again and again. How could she possibly deserve someone who fought for what was right, while she couldn't even face being made fae? How could she deserve someone who had done everything she couldn't, someone who had protected both of her sisters when Nesta had failed? How could she deserve someone who took all the shit the world threw at him, and continued with a smile and a laugh? 

She was spiteful, angry at the world, and everyone in it. She didn't even know how to cope with any sort of change. She couldn't cope when her father lost their fortune, couldn't cope when the money ran out, couldn't cope when her baby sister took it upon herself to protect them. She couldn't cope when that same sister got kidnapped, couldn't cope when Elain was ripped away from her future, the life she had planned, couldn't cope when her own life changed. She didn't deserve him. Mor was right to be wary of her, anyone she had ever dared to care about got hurt. Her eyes filled with tears as another face floated into her mind, another name, someone else she had cared about, loved, someone else she had failed to protect. She had told herself that it wasn't her fault, but if she had never allowed that fae to take Feyre away, Clare would still be alive, it _was_ her fault. And she couldn't take it anymore. 

Her mind racing, spiraling down that familiar road, she couldn't focus on her breakfast, lunch really, couldn't focus on anything outside her thoughts. She didn't notice when she dropped the plate, shards flying everywhere, she didn't notice the food splattering across the tiles. She didn't notice when her hands started shaking, when her breathing accelerated. She stumbled forwards, anything to get away from the thoughts racing through her mind. What if she just rid everyone of the disappointment, what if she just made all of their lives easier? It would be so easy. She didn't deserve to be the one who survived, not when Clare had died, when their mother had died, when countless others had died. She was only alive because Feyre was High Lady, because her sister refused to let her die. She should do them all a favor, and get rid of the hate brewing in her heart, because she didn't hate the world, not really. She kept her walls up to protect herself from _feeling_ too much, because it hurt too much. But she didn't hate the world. She didn't hate Feyre, nor the High Lord, didn't hate how madly in love they were, she hated how she couldn't replicate her sister's strength, that she wasn't good enough. She definitely didn't hate Cassian, she couldn't if she tried, but she hated how he was so perfect, that she could _never_ deserve his love. She hated one thing, and it wasn't the world. Nesta hated herself.

She dropped to her knees, right there in the living room, and sobbed, right where anyone could see, but she didn't care, for the first time, she didn't care. She didn't even try to stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks, didn't try to slow her breathing, to get more air into her lungs. This was it. She was going to die, right now. And the world would be all the better for it.

*****

Cassian cursed the sun, willing it to sink faster, he had to get back, leaving Nesta alone after what she had said last night was not good. He had to get back. 

"Come on, pick up the pace!" he shouted. He knew he shouldn't be punishing his pupils for his own worries, but the faster they finished, the faster he could leave. He glanced at the sky, and started pacing again, only half paying attention to the pitch,

"General?" He jumped, and his sword leapt into his hand, a little squeak from beside him snapped him out of the haze, a small child was standing there, fear shining in his eyes,

"Oh, sorry. Hey, it's okay," he desperately tried to calm the boy, sheathing his sword, "You just startled me, that's all. Okay?" The boy nodded,

"I've finished, can I go home?" He whispered, still a little nervous, even though he had never seen or heard of Cassian hurting any of his pupils, he knew exactly who he was dealing with, what the general was capable of.

"You need to cool down first, go and gently jog a lap, then walk one, then stretch, then you can go home." Cassian forced himself to outwardly relax, to put the boy at ease, "Got that?"

"Yep. Thank you, general." He jogged off and a couple of the others followed him. Cassian couldn't wait any longer, he had to leave _now._

"Let's call it a day there!" He shouted across the pitch, "James will lead a cool-down, anyone who skimps on this does extra laps tomorrow!" Without waiting for a response he shot into the sky and sprinted for home. 

When he landed his wings were burning, and he practically threw the door open, freezing at the sight of broken china, and food splattered everywhere. Oh gods, someone had broken in. Nesta, where was Nesta?

"Nesta!" He shouted, stepping over the mess, "Nesta, where are you?" No response, shit, shit, shit, if she was gone, if she was hurt, he would tear the world apart stone by stone to get her back. He would _kill_ anyone who had hurt her, slowly, painfully. His thoughts broke off when he reached the other side of the kitchen, and found something else.

Every though froze, except that one instinct. Keep her safe. He hadn't even done that, someone had hurt her, and he'd not been here. Blood roared in his ears as he ran for her.

"Nesta! Nesta, sweetheart please," she seemed not to hear him, her hands pressed against the sides of her head, tears streaming down her face, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she rocked back and forth. "Nesta," he breathed, "Sweetheart, please, I'm here, come back to me, please," she didn't hear him. Didn't move, even as he tentatively placed a hand on her shoulder. "Nesta," she shook her head, and cried harder, if that was even possible. "Nesta," he said louder, pulling her hands away from her face and squeezing her fingers gently, "Nes, I'm here, you're okay, you're okay," he muttered again, and again. She seemed to finally hear him, and opened her eyes,

"Cassian?" She whispered, her voice barely audible from crying, Cauldron, how long had she been here? He shouldn't have left, he should have come up with some excuse and got Devlon to teach instead.

"Yeah, I'm here, I'm here, you're okay, you're okay,"

"No," she whispered, "I'm not." She allowed him to gather her in his arms and carry her back upstairs, allowed him to run a bath, to fill it with scented oils and bubbles. When he made to slip outside, she grabbed his hand, "Don't go! Don't leave me! Please," her voice broke on the last word and he stopped, coming back towards her,

"Okay. Are you sure?" She nodded,

"I don't care." That was the problem, he realized, she didn't allow herself to care, to try to stop it from hurting, tried to convince herself that nothing really mattered, but it did. She clung on to his hand as she pulled her leathers away and wordlessly slipped into the bath. She held on to him even as the salts and oils did their job, clearing the stress from the air, giving her space to breathe. Her eyes filled with tears again when he turned to grab a bar of soap,

"I'm not going anywhere," he whispered, "I'm right here," she nodded wordlessly, and kept holding his hand as she washed herself off. "I'm right here," he repeated as she drifted off to sleep, still clinging on to him. He carefully lifted her out of the bath, and carried her through to the nearest room, his, he kept one eye on her sleeping form as he rummaged for a spare shirt for her to sleep in, making sure her breathing was steady, that it was still even, that she was alright. He quickly changed out of his leathers, and slipped into the bed beside her, stroking her hair gently, holding her against him all night, until she woke the next morning.


End file.
